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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23971852">Check Trek</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/haj_ca/pseuds/haj_ca'>haj_ca</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Check Trek, Please! [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Check Please! (Webcomic), Star Trek, Star Trek: Picard, Star Trek: The Next Generation</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Crossover, M/M, Past Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 17:48:54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,155</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23971852</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/haj_ca/pseuds/haj_ca</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack Zimmermann is the captain of the U.S.S. Samwell, and the ship has been assigned to transport Prof. Eric Bittle to an old Earth colony to stop a devastating famine.  Set in the ST:TNG universe, between Star Trek: Nemesis and Star Trek: Picard with the beloved characters from "Check, Please!"</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eric "Bitty" Bittle/Jack Zimmermann</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Check Trek, Please! [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1728271</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Come on, Papa, Give me your best!" Jack shout out as he pushed off on his skates, hockey stick in hand, and headed straight at his father, who was guarding the goal on the frozen pond behind the family house outside of Montreal.</p><p>"Don't get cocky, Jacques.  Your old man may not have played competitively for years, but I still have moves."</p><p>As Jack accelerated on the ice, he swerved to the left to get the puck around his father and into the goal.   Yet Jack didn't seevRobert "Bab Bob" Zimmermann, a legendary hockey player and star ship captain in his own right, move with nearly mesmerizing speed to knock the puck from Jack's stick.  And then it was Bob who sped down the pond and slid the puck into the goal on the other side. </p><p>"One of these days, Papa, I'm not going to fall for that move," Jack said, shaking his head but laughing.</p><p>"I know you will son.  It's inevitable," Bob replied warmly to his only child.  For above all else, Bob loved his wife Alicia and son Jack without reservation, and he was thankful every day that despite the dangers of Jack's job, he was alive and in good health and one of the best and youngest captains serving in Starfleet.  Yet Bob and Alicia harbored concerns for Jack.</p><p>As they sat on the bench near the pond changing out of their skates, Bob looked at his son, "How you holding up, Jackie?"</p><p>"I'm good," Jack replied with just the slightest bit of hesitancy that Bob sensed.  "We ship out tomorrow to Orinda IV, a relief mission for the colony there.  Transporting a scientist named Bittle, who is some type of expert in restarting crop production after widespread farming failures."</p><p>"Ah right, I read about the problems on O4 on the Federation News Service.  That colony has always been a pain, mostly due to the old fashioned ways they stubbornly embrace.  More so lately with the way things have been going lately.</p><p>"Do you miss it, Papa?  Being out there?" Jack asked.</p><p>"Oh, no.  Galloping around the stars is a job for the young folks.  Well, that's 100 years old for a Vulcan," Bob joked.  "I'm not going to be one of those old Starfleet types who pines for the glory days.  Plus, your mother was tired of living part time on star ships.  She wanted to be home, and my job number one job is to make her happy.  Anyway, I've become quite a good cook you know, since we've been back here in Montreal."</p><p>"I know!  With all the food you've fed me the past few weeks, I'll need to do extra hockey practice on the holodeck when I get back to the Samwell."</p><p>"How's it going with the Vulcans and their adventures in holodeck hockey?" Bob asked.</p><p>"Euh, ha.  The Vulcans are an unintentionally funny lot.  They question the logic of hockey as a 'meaningless human activity.'  Then when you get them on the ice, they become intently competitive and they are out to win, especially if Andorians are on the other team.  Maybe that's their way of making a joke."</p><p>"Sounds like the Vulcans I know," Bob laughed.  "The Andorians must be naturals since they come from a frozen world."</p><p>Jack nodded fervently in response, but then the smile slowly left his face and his gaze grew distant.</p><p>Bob sensed what Jack was thinking, put his arm around his son's shoulder and said gently, "Your mother and I miss Kent too, Jack.  I know the attack on Mars by the synths made no sense, and I seriously doubt their malfunction was the sole thing that caused them to rebel.  Kent was doing his duty as a Starfleet officer when he was called to respond, and you would have done exactly the same thing has you been there as well.  It's a risk that we all signed up for.  I know that doesn't make the pain feel any less real.  I won't say the old tired cliche that it will get better, because I can't promise you that, yet feeling grief is part of us as a species, as humans, maybe even one of the fundamental aspects of our existence as individuals.  What we can control is how we continue to live our lives for those we've lost."</p><p>"We had only been married a few years," Jack said softly, tears brimming in his eyes.  "Kent talked a lot about building a cabin in the mountains near his hometown where we could spend shore leave on Earth.  We had even talked about starting a family."</p><p>"I just now can't stop thinking whether it's all worth it," Jack continued, wiping the moisture from his eyes.  "Your generation defeated the Borg, won the Dominion war, kept the peace with the Klingons.  All of the Federation, or at least most of it, seemed to be in it together.  Then the Mars attack, and we, all of us, abandoned the Romulans in their hour of need.  We turned in on ourselves, no longer willing to be the greatest force for goodwill this galaxy has ever seen."</p><p>"I know, son.  I'm just as distressed about it as you are.  Your uncle Jean-Luc was so upset about the situation that he's gone into self-imposed exile at his vineyard in France."</p><p>"Have you spoken with him recently?" Jack asked.</p><p>"No, and I should call him, even pay a visit.  He would chirp me for my Quebecois-accented French.  Jean-Luc is always a gracious host even if he really doesn't want to see you."</p><p>"Starfleet doesn't have the greats anymore like Picard, Tsing, Baru, Janeway, T'Ser, you."</p><p>"Oh, I don't belong in that august group, not even close," Bob said firmly.  "But you, my son, have all the ability in the world to help put things back on course again."</p><p>"Well, in my opinion, Papa, you do belong in that group, even if you're retired here in Montreal making gourmet meals.  You and Maman have been my greatest inspirations.  I wouldn't be anywhere without you," Jack said  looking intently as his father with a seriousness that Bob knew not to dismiss.  "I love you, Papa," Jack said as he embraced his father.</p><p>Bob said nothing while tightly returning Jack's embrace, letting the silence speak everything that needed to be said.  After a moment, Bob released the hug and said, "Come on, we have to get back to the house.  Your mother has been cooking all day, and we don't want to upset her, even if I am a better cook."</p><p>"Okay, Papa," Jack replied with that broad smile that Bob wish he showed more often.  "Let's go up."</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jack returns to the Samwell after shore leave, and checks in with Dr. Knight.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The next morning, Jack stood in the entry way to his parents' house wearing his duty uniform with his bags next to him. It was a bright and clear but cold day. In the past, Jack always looked forward to getting back into space after shore leave. But since Kent died, and with the way things were going in the Federation, the allure of space, even the whole purpose for Starfleet, seemed in doubt. Yet Jack was the latest in a long line of Zimmermanns that served and sacrificed for the values of the Federation, even if those ideals now seemed more than a little frayed.</p><p>"Jack, contact us, anytime, seriously please," his mother Alicia said with wet eyes as she hugged her son.</p><p>"Of course, Maman. And thanks for everything. This was was a great visit. I love coming home," Jack said.</p><p>"Bye, son. Be safe, be brave. We are so proud of you," Bob said as he embraced his son.</p><p>"Thanks, Papa. And thanks for the talk yesterday afternoon. It meant a lot," Jack said with some sadness in his body language. Yet then, with the famous Zimmermann moxie, Jack straightened himself up, put on the determined face that his friend called "The Look" and stepped out on the front porch.</p><p>He tapped his communicator, "Zimmermann to <em>Samwell</em>. One to beam up."</p><p>"Aye, captain. Stand by. Energizing now," came the reply.</p><p>As the transporter beam engaged, Jack smiled at his parents, who waved back as he de-materialized for the near instantaneous journey to the <em>Samwell</em> in Space Dock hundreds of miles above the Earth.</p><p>"He'll be okay," Bob said to Alicia, with his arm around her as the shimmering lights of the transporter faded from view.</p><p>"He's our baby boy, Bobby," Alicia said. "He has to be."</p><p>----</p><p>"Welcome aboard, Captain," the young lieutenant said brightly as Jack stepped off the transporter pad.</p><p>"Thank you.  You must be Lt. O'Meara, right?"  Jack asked.</p><p>"Yes sir, Ollie O'Meara.  I just transferred to the <em>Samwell</em> from the <em>Hood</em>."</p><p>"You transferred with your husband too, Lt. Wicks is it?" </p><p>"Yes sir," Ollie replied with a hint of nervousness.  Jack was well aware that all the crew knew that his husband Kent Parson died a in the synth attack on Mars.  He sometimes saw the concern in their eyes.  Or was it pity?</p><p>"Well, we're happy to have you both on the <em>Samwell</em>, Mr. O'Meara.  And thankfully you got off the <em>Hood</em>, that rust bucket trying to pass as a star ship."</p><p>The smile returned to Ollie's face.  "Thank you, Captain.  The honor is mine, ours I mean.  We won't let you down.  Can I help you with your bags, sir?"</p><p>"No, I can manage, my quarters aren't far but thank you."</p><p>----</p><p>Jack walked though the corridors of the ship, acknowledging the greetings of the crew and saying hello to each of them by name.  He took pride in knowing everyone aboard his ship, one of the fleet's newer vessels.  It wasn't the flagship <em>Enterprise,</em> but the <em>Samwell </em>was regarded as one of the better ships, mostly due to the expectations of its exacting but entirely fair and reasonable captain.  The crew was extremely loyal to Jack.</p><p>And despite his earlier misgivings, it did feel good to be back on the ship.  He expected a lot from his crew but only if he worked harder, just like he approached anything including hockey, a sport that he had played since he was a kid and in competitive leagues when he was younger.  He was, however, counting the paces to his quarter, trying to put Kent out of his mind after his brief conversation with Lt. O'Meara.</p><p>Jack placed his hands on the wall when the doors to his quarters closed behind him. "Okay, Zimmermann, breath.  1-2-3."  He followed the technique the ship's counselor had taught him whenever he felt anxious.   In a few moments, he felt in control again, and then threw his bags into the closet.  He'd unpack later.  He touched the framed picture on the dresser of Kent and him from their honeymoon, when they went sailing through the South Pacific, thinking of how much fun they had.  He was snapped back to the present when the soft chime of his cabin doorbell rang</p><p>"Enter," Jack said.</p><p>"Mon Capitain, my Captain! Re-bienvenue to votre ship!" Dr. Byron Sterling "Shitty" Knight exclaimed as we walked in.  "How was your vacay, my Canadian Adonis of a leader?"</p><p>" "Vacay,' Shitty?  Is that what the young kids are saying these days, or are you just watching early 21st century comedies about teenagers again?  And your French is still terrible," Jack chirped.</p><p>"Ha!  What i lack in talent I make up for in enthusiasm.  Seriously, though, how was your leave?"</p><p>"It was good, relaxing.  I ate entirely too much.  My father is seriously trying to become Earth's Next Top Chef.  Mom is getting ready to host a few documentaries that are going to be on Sol Broadcast System.  That's better than being on "Real Spouses of Starship Captains."  Can you believe that's a thing?"</p><p>"Alicia is a way too classy to be on that trashy show," Shitty observed.  "And Bad Bob as top chef, love it." </p><p>"Dad and I had a good talk about Kent.  It helped.  I am moving on, slowly."</p><p>"It sounds trite to say it takes time, but it really does, it's true.  And you must give yourself breaks along the way. Trust me, I'm a Doctor," Shitty said with a hopeful smile that on anyone else would have been inappropriate given the subject of the conversation.  But Shitty was Jack's oldest friend since they met as plebes as the Academy, and they became fast friends when they both played on the school's ice hockey team where they fearless took on competitors from species stronger than humans.  Jack trusted Shitty as much as anyone.</p><p>"Good, I'm proud of you, Jack.  And you know I'll always be there for you."</p><p>"Thanks, Shitty," Jack said. "I appreciate it, I really do.  So how was your leave?"</p><p>"Fantastic.  Lardo and I saw her parents, who are great.  We saw my parents, who are like Vulcans without the charm.  Then we went hiking in Bhutan, which was beautiful.  And we ran into Joe Johnson, who was on a retreat in a monastery there."</p><p>"Ha, figures," Jack replied.  "What's he doing now?"</p><p>"He is starting a new job as, get this, ship's counselor on the <em>Enterprise</em>."</p><p>"Really?  Big shoes to fill there.  Deanna Troi practically defined how we think of that role fleet wide when she served on the <em>Enterprise</em> <em>D &amp; E</em>."</p><p>"Yes, that's true. Hey, here's a funny story.  When I came aboard last night, I was walking to my quarters and I saw Lt. Birkholtz being thrown out of Lt. Richards's quarters. He was in his skivvies and carrying his uniform.  I couldn't quite make it out but she was shouting something at him like, "Why don't you just date Justin?  You like spending time with him more than me!"</p><p>Jack guffawed.  "Yeah, Birkholtz and Oluransi should just date each other.  I don't think they enjoy anyone else's company nearly as much as they do each other's."</p><p>"Birkholtz got nervous when he saw me, as he was standing there nearly buck naked, so I just said to him,"Carry on, Lieutenant."</p><p>Jack laughed.</p><p>"Oh, and I ran into that newish communications officer, Whip, Whisk, Whiskey Sour, what's his name?"</p><p>"Connor Whisk."</p><p>"Yes, him.  One would think, Captain, that when you make personnel selections, that your senior communications officer should have minimal social skills and be able to carry on a conversation.  That guy is near stone cold silent."</p><p>"Shh, he can probably hear you," Jack joked.  "He speaks like three dozen Federation languages, fluently, plus Klingon and all three dialects of Romulan."</p><p>"Ah, the Romulans.  That mess is  the albatross around our necks.  We, the collective we, sure screwed them over."</p><p>"Yes, we sure did," Jack paused, then continued, "We have a VIP on this assignment, a Professor Eric Bittle, who is an Earth and xeno biologist who specializes in food production."</p><p>"I read the profile and assignment orders that you sent me," Shitty said. "So he's going to help fix the mess on Orinda IV?"</p><p>"Yes. He'll have full access to the <em>Samwell</em>'s science and medical departments."</p><p>"Bittle's a good looking guy. And blond. Your type, Jack," Shitty said with a twinkle in his eye.</p><p>Jack ignored the comment, and Shitty smartly changed the subject. "Computer, this is Dr. Knight," Shitty said.  "What time does Prof. Bittle arrive?"</p><p>"Prof. Eric Bittle is scheduled to come on board the <em>Samwell</em> at 1800 hours Earth GMT, Transporter Room 2," the computer replied.</p><p>"Do you want me to be there when he arrives?" Shitty asked.</p><p>"Please.  And Commander Duan.  I'm meeting with her shortly in my ready room to go over the department updates, assignment orders, and the departure checklist."</p><p>"She's already on the bridge," Shitty said.</p><p>"I'd expect no less from my Number One.  Your Number One too," Jack smiled.</p><p>"Thank you, Captain.  She is great. I'll see you at 1800 hours in the transporter room."</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Eric Bittle arrives on the Samwell, and Captain Zimmermann feels something.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Shortly before 1800, Jack walked into the transporter room. Shitty and Lardo were already waiting for him.</p><p>"Captain," Lardo and Shitty said at the same time.</p><p>"Good evening," Jack said. He turned to the officer at the transporter controls, "You must be Lt. Wicks. Welcome to the <em>Samwell</em>."</p><p>"Thank you, Captain!"  Wicks said.</p><p>"I can't really tell the difference between Wicks and O'Meara," Shitty whispered to Lardo.</p><p>"Honestly, neither can I," the First Officer replied to her fiance.</p><p>"Very good.  We ready, Lieutenant?" Jack asked.</p><p>"Yes, sir!  Energizing," Wicks said.</p><p>A few seconds later, the incredible technology of the transporter whirled into action, and moments later, a handsome  though rather diminutive  man materialized on the platform. </p><p>Jack took a moment before approaching the man standing on his transporter, studying the blond man for a a few moments, an uncharacteristic pause that did not go unnoticed by his First Officer and ship's doctor.  Jack then quickly walked up to the platform and reached out to shake Eric's hand.</p><p>"Prof. Bittle, I'm Jack Zimmermann, Captain of the Starship <em>Samwell</em>."</p><p>"Captain Zimmermann, it's a great honor to meet you!  I've read so much about you," Bitty said, as Jack blushed a tiny bit, which also did not go unnoticed by Shitty and Lardo.</p><p>"Thank you, Professor.  Please allow me to introduce you to my First Officer, Commander Larissa Duan, and the <em>Samwell</em>'s Chief Medical Officer, Byron Knight.  And this is Lieutenant Wicks, a new addition to our team.  We are at your service on this important mission."</p><p>"Captain, Commander, Doctor, Lieutenant, the honor is mine.  I'm pleased to be on one of Starfleet's finest ships."</p><p>"We believe it's the finest ship," Lardo said.</p><p>"The First Officer is our biggest champion," Jack replied.</p><p>"I'm sure that's the case!" Bitty gushed, and Jack couldn't help now but smiling.  Lardo and Shitty were now directly watching Jack react to Bitty.</p><p>"Professor, I see you bought some cargo with you?" Jack asked.</p><p>"Oh yes, and please call me Eric, or Bitty.  My friends all call me Bitty.  The box has my cooking utensils, knives, pie plates, pots,"  Bitty said.</p><p>"Are you planning on cooking on this assignment?"  Jack asked.</p><p>:"Well, if you'll allow me.  It's what I do to relax, especially when work projects get stressful.  I read in the popular media that the <em>Samwell</em> has a full traditional kitchen.  I can make stuff so much better than the replicated stuff."</p><p>"Professor, euh, Bitty, that can certainly be arranged. Lieutenant, would you arrange for Professor Bittle's supplies be sent to the galley?"</p><p>"Yes, sir," Wicks replied.</p><p>"If you'll follow me, we can show you to your quarters, and then would you like to dine with us this evening?  We are not scheduled to depart until 2100."</p><p>"That sounds great Captain, thank you."</p><p>"Please call me Jack," Jack said as he led them out of the transporter room into the corridor.</p><p>Lardo and Shitty followed behind, and Wicks laughed quietly to himself as he saw the doctor give the First Officer yet another look with a raised eyebrow.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>To be continued!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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